


eye of the storm

by softiejace



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Finn-centric, Finnpoe - Freeform, First Kiss, Fluff, Fluff without Plot, Getting Together, Healthy Conversation, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing in the Rain, M/M, POV Finn (Star Wars), POV Poe Dameron, POV Third Person, Poe Dameron Being a Little Shit, Poe gets off on danger and we all know it, Post-Star Wars: The Last Jedi, Protective Poe Dameron, Rain, Second Kiss, Sharing Clothes, Sharing a Bed, Sleepy Cuddles, Sort Of, Sort of? - Freeform, Storm - Freeform, Stormpilot, Tension, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Wind - Freeform, can i get a hell yeah for extreme weather events as metaphors, can i get a hell yeah for the bed sharing trope!, i guess, in the second chapter!, insert obligatory storm joke here, non-sexual nudity, they are so soft please i can't, this takes place on a fictional planet as i am a star wars pleb
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-12
Updated: 2019-03-18
Packaged: 2019-11-16 07:46:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18090296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/softiejace/pseuds/softiejace
Summary: eye of the storm:1.lit.the area of calm in the center of a tornado, hurricane, or cyclone.2.fig.a temporary peaceful time amidst more trouble and strife yet to come.After the resistance has landed on a planet that is yet to be explored and set up a camp for the night, Finn and Poe get caught in a storm.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> “The wind makes you ache in some place that is deeper than your bones.”
> 
> – Stephen King

“Do you think we’ll stay here for a long time?”

Finn looks over to where Poe is burying the pole deeper in the ground. It’s an arduous task; there’s only a shallow layer of dirt covering solid rock.

They’ve spent the better part of the time since their landing in a gorge struggling to sink enough metal poles into the planet’s surface to cover the Millennium Falcon with a makeshift tent.

A shelter from the storm they’re expecting. The winds are said to be strong enough to blow away almost anything in their path, having eroded the surface of the planet over time. No one wants to risk damage to the Falcon.

“You mean here, on this planet, or here, in this spot?”

Finn shrugs, running his hand over the smooth canvas. “I dunno. Both, I guess?”

“Depends on what the scouts find. The general’s sending some out tomorrow to see if there’s any green on this desolate planet.” Poe straightens up, dealing the pole a hearty kick and smirking with satisfaction when it stays still. “How are things looking over there?”

Finn leans in to inspect a place where the fabric has been patched, picking at a thread and finding it durable. “Fine, I think.”

“Good. We’re done then.”

A sudden breeze blows Finn’s jacket apart and he shivers, looking up.

In front of him, the massive canvas is spanned between two rocks, covering most of the Falcon. Turning around, his eyes see nothing but rock to either side for miles and miles. Except - there, on the far horizon, a hazy dark mass is forming, moving…

Finn feels his heart beat pick up at the ominous sight.

“Oh, that’s coming for us, alright.”

He glances at Poe who’s standing close by now, leaning against the wall of the tent.

They might well be the only two crew members left outside. He can’t see or hear anyone else. In fact, he can barely hear anything.

He swallows. “Why’s it so quiet?”

Even his voice feels pressed by the silence.

Poe’s face is turned towards the horizon.

“The wind doesn’t meet any resistance here,” he says softly. “It’s just smooth rock for miles on end, no grass to blow through, no trees to whistle past. Nothing at all... until it hits us.”

He sounds almost reverent. As though the approaching cloud bank was some kind of sacred sight and not a purveyor of disaster.

Finn stares at him, watches the curls dance across his forehead, the collar of his shirt beginning to flap.

“You like storms?”

“You ever been in the eye of a storm, Finn?” Poe asks back by way of reply.

Finn shakes his head and tucks it between his shoulders.

“There’s nothing like it,” Poe says raptly, eyes still trained on the sky.

“Isn’t it dangerous?” Finn asks, glancing nervously at the dark clouds that seem to be moving faster towards them by the minute.

He wishes he could guess how far away they are, how long it will take them to reach the spot where he and Poe are standing, exposed and at the mercy of their forces.

A chill runs down his spine, rooting him firmly to the ground.

“Yes,” Poe says, as gentle as though he’s trying not to wake someone. “That’s the point, isn’t it?”

And he turns towards Finn. The wind has picked up now and his hair is blowing wildly around his face. One of his eyebrows is raised in challenge.

“Do you trust me, Finn?”

There’s a sinister rumble in the distance, herald of the storm.

Finn looks at Poe whose eyes are glowing with the thrill of it, and nods.

Immediately, a grin breaks out on Poe’s face. “Come on then!”

And he pushes away from the tent and steps out into the open -- right into the path of the wind that is blowing ever faster, carrying with it the electric crackle of the air.

Finn has to raise his voice now to drown out the swelling roll of thunder, and he can’t quite conceal a hint of panic. “Poe, what are you – shouldn’t we go inside?”

“In a minute,” Poe shouts back. The wind is tugging on his clothes, sweeping his hair back from his face.

And Poe _laughs_ at it.

The impossibility of him renders any argument futile.

Finn should probably find it irritating rather than irresistible.

He takes a deep breath and ventures a step away from the tent, then another, keeping his eyes riveted on Poe until he reaches him.

Here, the wind is unyielding, but so is Poe – his arms spread out to either side, head thrown back and eyes shut.

“You’re not afraid of anything, are you?”

Poe turns to look at him.

“The question is not whether you’re afraid,” he says, “rather than what you’re willing to do about it. If I held back every time something scares me, I wouldn’t be where I am.”

“And what are we doing about it?” Finn asks, half-shouting now despite their proximity.

He can’t figure out what good stepping into harm’s way for no reason is going to do.

A gust of wind knocks Poe half a foot backwards, and he lets out a yelp of delight.

“Today, Finn, we are facing our fear!”

Finn braces his feet against the rocky ground, keeping his head down. Then he follows Poe’s example and closes his eyes.

“Do you feel it, Finn? Do you feel _alive_?”

And as they stand in the midst of the storm, Finn thinks he feels… something.

Something more than just the wind pulling hard on his clothes, flattening them against the front of his body. Something within him that burns sweetly, a tender ache, a strangely familiar longing for something he can’t put into words.

He can’t say how long they’ve been standing there when a different sensation breaks his trance.

Cold fingers closing around his wrist.

“Can’t let you get blown away,” Poe says close to his ear.

Finn opens his eyes, noting with delight that Poe’s cheeks are tinted pink, before a stabbing pain flashes through his left eye.

He lets out a cry, about to stumble if it were not for Poe’s grip on his arm.

“Kriff! Finn, are you okay?”

All Finn can think of is stopping the pain. He reaches up blindly, but finds his other arm caught in Poe’s grasp as well.

“Don’t rub it,” Poe says sternly. “You’ll hurt yourself worse.”

Finn notes vaguely that Poe turns him around so the wind is blowing against his back instead. “Here, let me see. Can you look at me?”

He blinks his eyes open with some trouble. “It hurts,” he says, feeling a pathetic whimper rise in his throat.

“I know,” Poe murmurs soothingly. Finn barely hears it over the howling of the wind. “Hold still, okay?”

He tries to hold as still as he can, which is anything but easy with the wind seeming adamant to push him towards Poe.

“Don’t blink,” Poe’s voice says in his ear. His hand is close to Finn’s eye and he struggles to keep it open wide.

And then the pain is gone, only a faint echo throbbing in its wake.

“There we are. Just a bit of debris.” Poe’s voice is soft as silk and his face is very close, eyebrows furrowed with concern. “Does it still hurt?”

Finn shakes his head meekly. To his embarrassment, he finds himself sniffling – and then holding his breath when Poe strokes the pad of his thumb gently across the skin below his eye, wiping away a stray tear.

“Sorry about that, buddy.”

“Not your fault,” Finn says. He feels weak in the knees, his ability to withstand the wind fading.

Poe’s hands slide down to his upper arms. He’s still staring at Finn’s face and Finn averts his gaze, feeling his cheeks heat up.

“Enough excitement for now. Let’s get you inside, huh?”

Finn is about to agree when a gust of wind sends him falling right into Poe’s chest.

Before he can die from humiliation, Poe’s laughter rumbles against his ear. “Don’t worry. I’ve got you, bub.”

His breath is warm against the side of Finn’s face, a welcome contrast to the cold wind that surrounds them.

“Think you can walk?” He asks, a chuckle tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Or do I need to carry you?”

Finn ducks his head into the collar of his jacket, thankful that his dark skin conceals the rush of blood into his cheeks.

“Shut up.”

Poe laughs again with his head thrown back, a marvelous sight against the backdrop of the storm clouds that are covering the vast expanse of the sky now.

There’s a clap of thunder right above them and then a raindrop hits Poe’s cheek.

Another lands on his forehead at the same time as Finn feels one running down his own temple.

“Get ready to run, Finn!” Poe exclaims, and then he grabs Finn’s hand and starts towards the entrance of the tent which is tucked into a niche near the face of the rock.

“We’re going to get drenched!” Finn yells, shaking Poe’s hand off as a flash of inspiration strikes him. He shrugs the jacket off his shoulders and hoists it up above their heads.

Poe loops an arm around Finn’s waist to press in close as he ducks underneath it.

They stumble more than they run now, propelled forwards by the wind, and Finn feels breathless laughter bubble up at the absurdity of the whole situation.

Before long, the rain is beating down so hard Finn can barely see where he’s treading, and he just so spots the rock face before he smashes into it, catching himself with his hands.

Poe tumbles into him, pushing at his shoulders.

Suddenly, the rain stops.

Finn blinks. They’ve reached the spot where the canvas meets the rock, providing a temporary shelter from the storm. The entrance to the Falcon can’t be more than a few feet away.

Strangely enough, Finn doesn’t care to find it right now.

He turns to look at Poe.

His cheeks are tinged red beneath the golden complexion, lips parted with his heaving breaths. His hair is clinging to his forehead and temples.

His clothes, soaked through, are also clinging, but Finn forces his eyes up to meet Poe’s that are staring curiously back at him.

“We made it,” he says, unable to ban the astonishment from his voice.

Poe grins at him. “’Course we did. You didn’t think I’d let us die out there, did you?”

Finn shakes his head. “Would’ve defeated the purpose. ‘Do you feel _alive_?’” He mimics Poe.

“Don’t even pretend you didn’t,” Poe says, braced against the side of the rock, and his smile fades to make way for an oddly earnest expression. “You felt it, didn’t you?”

The downpour and thunder aren’t as half as intense as the look in his eyes.

Finn swallows. “I felt it,” he confirms, voice gravelly.

Poe is so close now Finn could count the droplets of rain caught in his eyelashes.

“I knew you would,” he says.

His breath is warm on Finn’s cold, wet face.

His mouth is warm, too, and surprisingly soft against Finn’s.

He surges up almost instinctively, hands scrambling across Poe’s chest and shoulders until they find his face.

The kiss is urgent, a sudden release of built-up tension, much like the cloudburst they got caught in.

It slows down as Finn smoothes the pads of his thumbs along Poe’s jaw, returning the tender gesture from before. Poe’s eyelashes flutter against his cheek and he gasps softly, almost soundlessly, his mouth falling open.

His tongue is wet and hot against Finn’s bottom lip, the sensation sending a thrill through his very bones.

A rush like a torrent, like a blast of air.

He barely notices the whimper that falls from his lips when Poe pulls away ever so slightly, breathing hard.

Finn lets his hands fall to the lapels of his jacket and tugs him closer, until their foreheads come to rest against each other.

He feels utterly, vibrantly _alive_.

“That feeling,” he murmurs hoarsely when he’s caught his breath. “When we were standing in the storm. It was  like – like a yearning. For something I didn’t know the name of.”

Poe’s arms wrap around his waist, holding him against his body.

“Do you know it now?” he asks, his breath caressing Finn’s face like the softest echo of the wind.

Finn closes his eyes.

Somewhere deep inside, he thinks he does.


	2. aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> aftermath:  
> 1\. something that follows and usually results from an event, esp. one of a  
> calamitous nature; consequence: the aftermath of war.
> 
>  
> 
> surprise! i decided to add a second part showing what happens after their kiss -  
> the aftermath of the storm, if you will.  
> hope you enjoy this. let me know what you think!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “we've gone against the tide  
> all we have is each other now  
> i'm coming home now  
> i need your comfort
> 
> from this moment  
> from this moment  
> you will never be alone  
> we're bound together  
> now and forever  
> the loneliness has gone”
> 
> \- aftermath by muse

Poe could kick himself.

No, scratch that – he could _strangle_ himself.

And from the look on the General’s face, he’s not the only one with that desire right now.

“To treat your own safety with such little regard – well, that’s hardly news. But that you were willing to risk Finn’s is what really astonishes me, Dameron.”

“I thought I had it under control,” Poe says again, in an uncharacteristically small voice. He’s not so much arguing back at the General as he is trying to assuage his own guilt.

“The winds – well, they approach gradually, so I could estimate when we had to get moving to be inside before they got dangerously fast.”

The General remains unimpressed. “You talk too big for someone visiting this planet for the first time,” she says, and he lowers his head. “Tell me, with your apparent in-depth consideration of the winds and their speed, have you spent any thought at all on the rain?”

That stuns Poe into silence for a moment. “The rain?” He asks then, quietly.

“Yes, the rain, Dameron. We know the atmosphere is breathable, but that’s about all. What is it made of? Can you tell me?”

Poe shakes his head. A truly awful feeling is taking hold of him, like ice in his veins.

He’d just been meaning to take Finn to have his eye looked at in case the bit of debris had caused any damage, despite Finn’s insistence that it was _fine, really, it doesn’t even tear anymore,_ when – curse his luck – they had run into the General who had immediately sent Finn off to the med-bay and ordered Poe to stay.

Bile threatens to rise from his stomach and he swallows hard to keep it down. “I – I hadn’t thought of that,” he admits, feeling like an absolute greenhorn.

How could he forget? Having spent most of his life on planets where there was either no precipitation at all or where it came in the form of water, he’d just assumed it would be the same here. But he knows that’s not true for every planet in the galaxy. There are uninhabitable ones, ones where it rains diamonds, or glass, or highly toxic gas.

“It seemed like water,” he adds, in a voice that wavers with uncertainty and desperate hope.

Instead of the eruption he’s expecting, the General just sighs like she’s tired. Somehow, that feels worse.

“I can’t have you turn into a raw recruit every time you’re around that boy,” she says then, and there’s a different, tender reprimand in her voice now that makes him look up.

“P-pardon?” Poe says, thunderstruck.

“It seems obvious that you’re trying to impress him, but can’t you do that without putting his life – both your lives – in jeopardy?”

“I was just trying to show him a good time,” Poe blurts out – before screwing up his eyes and very nearly groaning at the unintended innuendo.

To his surprise and even greater embarrassment, the General chuckles at that. “I don’t doubt that.”

She places a hand on his arm and her voice is gentle when she speaks. “Dameron, I understand that you’re head over heels and believe me, I am happy to see that. But we need your head at the moment. So whatever it takes for you to get it working again, I must implore you to do.”

There seems little point in denying it.

Poe clears his throat. “I – uhh. I think we’re a little past that point, actually, General.” He feels his cheeks glow just thinking about their kiss under the make-shift canopy.

She raises an eyebrow in what seems like pleasant surprise, though it might just be amusement – he can never quite tell. “Well then. In that case I expect you to be back on your ordinarily foolish behavior soon and I should be able to send you on a scouting mission together.”

Poe nods sheepishly. “Yes, Ma’am. And I’m sorry, again, about the –”

She waves him off. “Let’s hope we needn’t speak of it anymore. The tests should be through any moment. I have places to be – do update me on his status. I assume you’ll be staying?”

He nods again.

The General gives him a last stern look. “Good. I expect you to take care of the situation from here on out.”

“Yes, General. You can count on me.”

She dismisses him with a nod but he’s only a few steps down the corridor when she calls out.

“Oh, and Dameron – get yourself a blanket and some dry clothes. You look like a drowned porg.”

Poe’s not sure he imagines her little smile at the end of that sentence.

In truth, he’s barely noticed his wet clothes for the past ten minutes. Ever since he’d leaned in and Finn had _kissed him back_ , there had been no space in his mind for anything else. At least not until the General had given him that dressing-down about his recklessness.

Not the first one by far, and he has a feeling it won’t be the last one either...

Something bumps against his leg.

Poe blinks down at BB8.

“Hey, buddy. What’s up?”

The droid beeps insistently at him.

“Oh, they’re done already? That’s got to be good news then, doesn’t it?”

He sets off in a fast stride, following the droid to the med-bay and pushing the doors open without bothering to knock.

The medic nearest to the entrance moves as if to apprehend him but Poe has already spotted Finn – and frankly, there’s no stopping him when it’s Finn he’s trying to get to.

Finn is sat on a hospital cot, a large woolen blanket draped around him like a poncho. A heap of what appears to be a towel accompanied by his wet clothes lies beside him.

To Poe’s great relief, he appears to be fine and very chipper. He looks up at the sound of the doors opening and a smile appears on his face the moment he spots Poe heading towards him.

It doesn’t help, however, that the first thing he says is, “Hey, Poe, you should take off your clothes too.” But Finn, no detector for innuendo, plunges right on into his explanation. “The medics gave me this amazing blanket and it really warms you up!”

As if on cue, a medic joins them, handing Finn a cup of something steaming.

“Drink up.”

Poe clears his throat. “Is he – you know,” he lowers his voice slightly as Finn sips curiously on his beverage. “Okay?”

The medic scrolls through her datapad. “We’ve checked his vitals and blood. Wiped his skin down where he came in contact with the rain – I advise you to do the same until we can be sure what it contains. But so far, nothing out of the ordinary. He’s good to go; he just needs warmth and rest.”

Poe lets out a breath. _Thank the stars_. “What about his eye?”

“He’s welcome to request eye-drops if he experiences any pain in the next few hours, but the cornea seems intact.”

“Good. Good. Thank you.”

She shrugs. “Just doing our job.” Then she looks him up and down. “Sit. I’ll get you a towel and blanket as well.”

He obliges, sitting on the cot opposite Finn.

“So – you’re feeling alright then?” He asks.

Finn drains the remainder of his cup and nods. “I’m fine, Poe. Told you it didn’t hurt anymore.”

Poe studies his boots. “Yeah, but... well.” He swallows. “They don’t know what’s in the rain. If it’s toxic. I could’ve – I could’ve gotten you killed,” he breaks off.

“Us,” Finn corrects him.

Poe looks up.

 “Could’ve gotten us killed,” Finn says, and there’s a spark in his eyes. “And it wasn’t all you. I stayed out of my own free will, remember?”

 _Yes_ , Poe wants to say, _but I asked you to trust me and then I got you in danger_.

At that moment, however, the medic returns with a blanket and towel folded over her arm and an identical steaming cup in her other hand.

“Get dry and wrap yourself up, then drink this,” she orders before turning away and busying herself with some supplies on the far end of the room – to give him a sense of privacy, he supposes.

Finn has _not_ turned away.

Poe opts for the towel first, wiping his face and neck, then his hands, and finally scrubbing it through his hair.

The rain has soaked through the front of his shirt and partly his trousers as well and there’s no way he can wipe himself dry there without taking them off.

Poe wonders if by “take off your clothes” Finn meant all of them.

Which would mean that Finn is naked underneath that blanket right now.

Which is decidedly _not_ what Poe should be thinking about when he’s about to take his own clothes off in front of Finn.

He clears his throat.

Finn raises an eyebrow in question.

“Uhh,” Poe stammers. “Umm. Could you – would you mind – turning around for a minute?”

His face feels so hot it seems unlikely that he should need the blanket.

Finn looks as though the idea hadn’t occurred to him – which maybe shouldn’t be surprising, considering that this is the same guy who ran into Poe _naked and leaking_ not too long ago. 

“Oh. Yes, of course.”

Finn shifts on the cot so that he’s facing away from Poe.

Poe makes fast work of stripping off his jacket, shirt and trousers, which obviously means he has to kick off his boots as well.

Thankfully, his underwear and socks have remained dry, so he keeps them on and rubs the towel over the rest of his body as quickly as he can.

It’s not particularly cold in the med-bay, but it feels strange to be so exposed with the medics and Finn in the room.

This is not how he’s envisioned them both getting undressed together – not that he’s envisioned it often at all. A handful of times at most...

Poe shakes his head to dispel the inappropriate thoughts and reaches for the blanket.

He can’t suppress a little moan when he slides it around his shoulders and warmth floods him almost immediately.

Finn glances over his shoulder at the noise and grins at the sight of him.

Poe pulls the blanket around his body, very aware of their mutual state of almost-nudity.

“What?” he blurts, a little self-conscious.

This is weird. He’s never felt afraid to show off his body before. He knows he’s considered rather handsome, knows he can make people blush with a smile or a wink.

But Finn turns everything on its head.

“Your hair’s a _mess_ ,” Finn comments, still grinning cheekily.

Oh. Of course.

Poe raises one hand to run his fingers through the tangle of moist curls, the blanket falling off his right shoulder as he does so.

And Finn’s gaze drops quite blatantly before he snaps out of it.

 _Right_.

This is what Finn looks like when he blushes. There’s not a hint of redness to his cheeks, of course, the rush of blood concealed by his skin tone, but his head is ducked between his shoulders and he’s decidedly not meeting Poe’s eye.

Poe can’t help but smirk a little but decides not to comment on it, instead reaching for the cup next to him.

The brew tastes slightly bitter, but it warms his insides so thoroughly that he keeps sipping it anyway.

As soon as he’s done with it, the medic reappears as though summoned.

“You may return to your quarters now,” she says, taking their empty cups and raising an eyebrow at Poe when he reaches for his clothes.

“Oh, no. We’ll have to keep those for cleaning, I’m afraid.”

Poe stares at her incredulously.

Meanwhile, Finn has gotten to his feet and is clumsily attempting to slip them into his shoes without the use of his hands.

The way he’s clutching his blanket tightly does not escape Poe.

But it’s probably just because he’s naked. (Is he?) Not because seeing Poe’s bare chest has affected him in any way.

(Has it?)

“I can get you a hospital gown if you’re bothered, Commander,” the medic says with a hint of amusement cracking through her professional tone.

Poe stands, grumbling, “No, thank you. I’ll be fine.”

It’s just a short walk to the crew’s quarters and besides, he’s wearing underwear. And shoes, once he manages to put them on without dropping the blanket, which really isn’t any easier than Finn made it look.

For some miraculous reason they make it to the crew’s quarters without running into anyone, which Poe appreciates in his current underdressed and disheveled state.

It’s not before they enter their quarters that Poe becomes aware of a small problem.

They share a room. Not just with each other but with two other men, two bunk beds crammed into a room that usually only holds one.

Even with all the people they’ve lost in the last attack, the Falcon’s quarters aren’t spacious enough for all of the remaining resistance.

In fact, now that they’ve landed and there’s no night shift for the pilots anymore, it’s likely to get even more crowded in the quarters. The General has urged them to make room for everyone who needs some shut-eye, even if it means they have to share a bed.

He doesn’t mind giving up his Commander privileges, even his bed, if necessary.

Right now, though, he’d really appreciate some space.

If not for himself, then for him and Finn.

Because by the stars, they’ve kissed almost an hour ago and they still haven’t even gotten around to acknowledging that out loud.

When they enter the room, only one other guy is there, lounging on his cot with his datapad in hand. Poe feels a little bad that he doesn’t remember his name, only vaguely recalls that he’s an engineer.

He barely even glances up when Poe and Finn enter, which would give Poe the chance to put on some clothes before anyone else sees him in this state.

Instead, he clears his throat, ignoring Finn’s wide-eyed stare.

The guy looks up, opening his mouth when he sees Finn and Poe, but the latter beats him to speaking.

“They need you in the Engineering Bay,” he lies confidently. “You know, to check on the Hyperdrive and the Escape Pods. Could take a while but the General needs everything to be in top shape if we’re going to send out scouts tomorrow.”

 The guy only hesitates briefly before nodding. “Alright, Commander.”

He climbs down from the bunk bed and leaves, very obviously trying not to glance back at them.

When the door falls shut behind him, Poe exhales in relief.

Finn has that wonderful grin on his face again that makes Poe’s knees feel like jelly.

“You pulled rank.”

Poe blushes and sinks onto his cot, sliding his boots off and pulling his feet up so he’s sitting cross-legged.

“Thought we might like some privacy,” he says in a slightly raspy voice.

His heart skips a little when Finn sits down next to him, closer than strictly necessary.

Close enough that their knees are pressed together when he mimics Poe’s position.

Finn’s blanket has slipped so that said knee and the lower half of his thigh are uncovered, smooth dark skin that looks so soft...

Poe swallows and averts his gaze, looking up at Finn’s face.

Finn is looking back at him.

“What did you want privacy for?”

He asks in a voice that is barely more than a whisper.

For a man of his height and statue, he looks uncommonly small with the blanket wrapped around him.

Poe is overwhelmed by a fondness so fierce it actually aches inside him.

He blinks rapidly, then clears his throat, looking down at his own hands where they’re holding the blanket together in his lap.

“That was a silly question, wasn’t it?” Finn murmurs before he can say anything. “I just – I don’t know. I mean, if you wanted to talk or – or...” he breaks off, stuttering, and Poe is reminded again that Finn is new to this.

New to most things.

Which gives Poe quite a bit of responsibility.

He swallows. “It’s not silly, Finn,” he says softly.

Taking a deep breath, he shifts to hold the blanket with one hand and places the other palm up on his thigh.

Thankfully, Finn gets the hint.

When his fingers slide in between Poe’s – tenderly, deliberately – Poe feels it in his veins like electricity.

“I do think we should talk before we, uhh... do anything else.”

Stars, this isn’t a conversation he was hoping to have in their current state of undress.

It’s one he usually prefers to be having fully clothed, or fully naked, not in this strange limbo.

But this isn’t usually. This is _Finn_.

“Right,” Finn says. “Should I start?”

Poe blinks up at him in surprise. “Umm. Sure? If you want to?”

Finn nods, his face serious and _so earnest_. “Well, I like you. Obviously. And I liked the kiss, a lot. I’d like to do it again. And – hmm. That’s about all I know. I’m not really sure how this works,” he admits, biting on his lower lip a little bashfully.

Poe feels his heart swell with affection for the exceptional man by his side.

“That’s okay, Finn,” he says, with as much emphasis as he can muster. “There’s really no rulebook for – umm. Romance,” he can feel himself blush again at the word. “Or relationships. We make the rules.”

Finn is quiet beside him and Poe realizes he’s left the most important part for last.

“Oh and – I like you too. An awful lot in fact. And the kiss – well, I’m sure you could tell I enjoyed that.”

Finn lets out a little breathless giggle.

“Yeah, I sort of figured.”

Poe keeps his gaze on their joined hands. “I’d also like to do that again.”

Finn nudges their shoulders together and Poe’s blanket slips a little from his grip.

“Really?”

He doesn’t bother readjusting it. He just looks up at Finn and nods.

Finn’s smile is positively breathtaking. It makes his eyes turn into crescents and his cheeks dimple.

“So, could I – can I –“

Poe presses his hand. “Yeah. You can kiss me, Finn,” he whispers.

And he does.

This second kiss is slower, softer, more tentative than the first.

Finn’s full lips frame Poe’s bottom lip as he tests the water, starting with just a tender brush that runs a shiver down Poe’s spine, then pressing a firm little peck to the corner of his mouth.

Poe has kissed his fair share of people and he’d like to think he’s quite good at it. He’s not likely to lose his cool around attractive guys, even when they’re flirting with him.

And yet Finn’s careful delicacy has him so floored he could _cry_.

He doesn’t waste a thought on his blanket and the fact that he’s very nearly naked beneath it – he just lifts the hand that’s not holding Finn’s to frame his jaw, caressing the lobe of his ear with his fingertips as he kisses back.

Gently. There’s no other way to kiss Finn in this moment.

Finn lets out a little sigh against his mouth before he pulls away.

“That was nice,” he murmurs.

Poe can feel his breath against his lips.

And cool air on his torso.

He blinks his eyes open a little dazed, pulling the blanket back up around his shoulders.

Finn’s cheek feels warm against his hand, as though flushed.

“Yeah,” Poe says belatedly. “I’d say that was pretty spectacular, in fact,” he asserts.

Finn smiles, lowering his gaze so his eyelashes draw shadows onto his cheekbones.

By the stars, he’s beautiful.

Poe wants to tell him as much. But that can wait. They’ll have more time to talk.

“Hey Poe?”

He hums in reply.

“Could I borrow some clothes? I don’t think I have anything besides the ones they kept at the med-bay.”

“Oh. Sure.”

He stands.

There’s a narrow locker in the back of the room, crammed in between the bunk beds. Poe tugs out some of his t-shirts, tossing one of them at Finn.

He keeps his back on Finn as he drops the blanket to slip the shirt on over his head.

Then he hunkers down to dig through the locker for pants.

“Bad news, Finn. I’ve only got one pair of pants left.”

“Oh, that’s okay. I’m sure I’ll get mine back tomorrow. Umm... do you maybe have some extra underwear for me, though?”

Poe feels blood rush into his head at the realization that Finn _is_ indeed fully naked under the blanket.

He manages to choke out an “of course” and grabs a pair of boxers.

When he turns back to Finn, carefully, ready to avert his gaze if need be, the other is sitting with the blanket wrapped around his waist, wearing Poe’s shirt.

Poe throws him the underwear and turns around again, contemplating whether he should bother putting on pants. After all, it’s late and the General hasn’t ordered them to be anywhere before the morning briefing.

And if Poe’s honest, the excitement of the day is starting to take its toll on him.

He could really do with some sleep.

“You can turn around.”

So Poe leaves the pants be and picks up the blanket, making his way back over to the cot.

Finn has pulled his legs up and wrapped himself up in the blanket, resting his chin on his knee. He looks soft and vulnerable.

“Are you still cold?” Poe asks.

Finn shrugs. “Maybe a little. Why?”

Sitting down next to him, Poe scoots to lean back against the wall, draping the blanket across his bare legs.

“We’ll probably get some more roommates tonight so a few of us might have to bunk together.”

“By a few of us you mean _you and me_ -us?” Finn asks, smiling a little.

Poe shrugs with fake nonchalance. “I mean, if you want to. Unless you prefer Mr Farts up there.” He points at the cot opposite of them.

Finn giggles, then looks down, biting on his lower lip. “I’ve never shared a bed with anyone before.”

“Really? It never got crowded up there on the –“ He stops himself from saying the word.

Finn is fiddling with the edge of his blanket. “They didn’t encourage closeness. Any kind of intimacy, really. I think they were afraid we might get confidential with each other.”

Poe lets out a soft breath. He doesn’t quite know what to say, but he knows how to offer comfort. He knows how he himself likes to be comforted.

 So he just opens his arms in invitation, murmuring a gentle, “c’mere.”

Finn’s eyes light up now and he crawls over, leaning carefully into Poe’s side and pulling his blanket close around himself.

Poe wraps an arm around him and gently rubs his upper arm. After a while Finn seems to loosen up and his head slips onto Poe’s shoulder.

“Thanks, Poe,” he murmurs.

 “Nothing to thank me for, Finn,” Poe murmurs. “This is nice, yeah?”

Finn nods, curling more into Poe’s direction and snaking a hand out of his blanket cocoon. Poe takes it into his, rubbing his thumb across the knuckles.

“You wanna go to sleep, buddy? So we’re refreshed for the scouting mission tomorrow?”

Finn blinks up at him through his long, dark lashes, and yawns.

Poe has to chuckle. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

The untangle themselves and lie down side by side, wrapped up in their blankets. It’s dark and relatively quiet – a blessing that won’t last as Poe is sure the other inhabitants of their quarters won’t stay away for long.

The only sound is the faint patter of the rain, dulled by the intermediate layer of the tent above the Falcon.

Finn’s facing Poe, eyes shut, but he’s fidgeting and grimacing.

“You good there, buddy?” He asks, then adds reluctantly, “you know you don’t have to sleep here if you’re not comfortable.”

Finn shakes his head. “It’s just – I usually sleep on my other side. Scar stings less that way.”

“You’re welcome to turn around.”

“Oh. But then we won’t be able to hold hands.”

Poe feels his heart actually contract inside his chest. “We can still cuddle,” he reassures Finn. “You wanna be big spoon or little spoon?”

Finn stares at him as though he can’t quite grasp why he’s bringing up cutlery.

Poe grins. “I’ll show you. Go on.”

As Finn turns to lie on his other side, Poe scoots up behind him, wrapping one arm around Finn’s waist and lining his knees up with the backs of Finn’s thighs. There’s still a layer of blanket between Finn’s lower half and his, which is probably for the better because it’s much too soon to go there yet and Poe really cannot control his body’s reactions when he’s asleep.

For now, cuddling is enough.

Not just that – it’s perfect, Poe decides as he feels Finn melt back into his embrace and slot his fingers in between Poe’s where his hand is resting on his stomach.

The little satisfied noise he makes when he finds they can, in fact, still hold hands, is something Poe wants to file away and never forget.

Something he could get used to hearing a lot more.

He curls himself around Finn’s body. Despite the fact that he’s bigger than Poe, he wouldn’t have it any other way. He likes holding Finn, likes to feel like he’s keeping him safe.

He presses a kiss to Finn’s shoulder next to the collar of his – Poe’s – t-shirt.

His clothes on Finn are something he’s liked from the beginning.

“You’re fine being little spoon, then?”

Finn just hums sleepily in reply, his thumb drawing patterns on the back of Poe’s hand.

Poe smiles quietly to himself and lets his head sink into the pillow.

He’s warm, he’s comfortable, and he’s holding Finn in his arms.

Really, there’s no better way to end the day, and it’s sweetened even more by the thought that he’ll get to wake up to this in the morning.

He closes his eyes and breathes in Finn’s scent.

“Goodnight, Finn,” he whispers into the dark.

Finn, already half-asleep, just squeezes his hand in response.

And it’s enough. In fact, it’s perfect.


End file.
